


Haunting Melody

by rainsrabble



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12458034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsrabble/pseuds/rainsrabble





	Haunting Melody

Hermione woke in the library, her face buried in an open book, drool on the yellowed crisp pages. For a moment her face stuck to the page and she used her robe to rub the stickiness from her cheek. She blinked groggily and looked around, slowly realizing that it was the wee hours of the morning and she must have fallen asleep doing her transfiguration homework. She clumsily stuffed her notes in her book and crammed the whole mess into her bag before getting to her feet and hurrying silently out of the library and down the hall.

She reached a turn, one hallway leading up towards Gryffindor tower, another angling down towards Snape's dungeon. She had never paused at that drafty delta before now, certainly there was no reason to want to go down there, but she had only passed a few steps by the intersection when she heard the most amazing haunting sound wafting up. If she didn't know better she might swear that she was hearing Ravel but that was absolutely impossible.

Not because it was impossible to play, but because this was Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the students here had never heard Classical music, at least not Slytherin students. The haunting notes were far away and distorted by the distance but she could almost convince herself that she was hearing the complex tones of 'Alborada del gracioso'. Perhaps she was still dreaming…it was certainly the only explanation for her sudden lack of impulse control. She really really ought to be on her way up to the tower and to bed, not hurrying down dark corridors towards the dungeon in the middle of the night, following a song.

Her overwhelming curiosity was outweighing her normal level head and she found herself almost flying along the corridors, simply bursting at the seams to know who played so beautifully. There was no doubt that the pianist was an accomplished musician, he or she barely paused with the ending of the first song before flowing almost seamlessly into 'Pavane pour une infante defunte' She would have given an eye to play so beautifully.

She took the final turn with a very undignified slide, and dropped her bag in astonishment. She was sure that she looked a fright. Panting from her run, hair in wild disarray, flushed face, open mouth…but really who would blame her for her complete and utter shock. Draco Malfoy played Muggle music, and he played it beautifully.

He knew she was there, when she had dropped her books on the floor he had looked up at her, gave her his customary dismissive glance, and looked back down at the keys. But even though she knew she ought to leave, that she was just embarrassing herself, she found her feet carrying her further into the small study where he was.

She had never noticed how impossibly long his fingers were, what elegant hands he had. His fine almost wispy hair hung in his eyes, his head was bent, and he slumped in the classic pianist pose. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the almost hypnotic quality of the music but she felt rooted to the spot. Unable to walk away like every cell in her brain was screaming that she should.

"You like the classic's Granger?" His voice startled her; it was so sudden and unexpected. Sometime since last year his voice had deepened from his almost squeaky adolescent voice to a velvety smooth baritone that fit him somehow.

"Uhm,..uh…yeah." Smooth Hermione, real smooth.

His head swiveled to look at her, while he played on, a sarcastic turn to the corner of his mouth. A mockery of a smile. "I'm sure if Snape knew that after midnight, the illustrious Head Girl lost all capability of coherent speech, we'd all be subjected to midnight classes." He turned his head back to his music. "Keep that little nugget of information to yourself then, hmmm."

She stood there mute, like a bump on a log, finally opened her mouth to reply but he beat her to it. "Do you play?"

"Uhm…no…actually I don't. I don't really have time to learn, what with all my schoolwork, and prefect duties, and tutoring…" She trailed off stupidly; he too had all of those same responsibilities.

"Do you know the artist?"

Hermione gave a sigh of relief, absolutely in raptures over being back on familiar ground. She must have gushed about the amazing sound of Ravel for ten minutes before she realized that he wasn't participating, or even really listening. She trailed off awkwardly again and looked towards the door. Perhaps it was time to go, there was no explanation for Malfoy's polite interaction with her and she was perfectly certain that it wasn't going to last.

"Would you like to try it?" She stared at him stupidly for an eternity before her feet moved her forward in short jerky steps. He looked amused, even as he stood to make room for her, and she desperately wanted to hit him. But she curbed the impulse and stared down at the keys. What on earth was she doing? She needed to go to bed.

He leaned in closer and she smelled the unmistakable sweet scent of alcohol on his breath. "Like this Granger," He pressed down three keys with each hand, moved two over and depressed the same pattern, then returned to his original place and did it again. She realized that she was trembling even as she reached her hands out for the keys.

His touch was a shock to her senses and she jumped like a startled doe, much to her embarrassment. His hand was surprisingly warm and gentle. Somehow she had always thought he would be cold which of course was ridiculous. His personality might be cold and ruthless, but he was still a living breathing human being. Breathing very close to her. He guided her hand to the proper keys, and let her go. The air was cold and bitter where his warmth had been.

There was an otherworldly feeling about the room. As if they had stepped out of reality for a moment and were now in a bubble of time; where no one existed except for the two of them. She felt like she had fallen down into a rabbit hole. He had her do it twice before he tapped out a rhythm on a different set of keys creating a very simple, hypnotic melody. Anytime now she would wake up from a restless slumber and wonder why that she had dreamt that Draco Malfoy had shown her a simple duet on the piano, much like the girls used to play before church on the organ.

"Why did you come down here Granger?" He breathed in her ear and she jumped again, pressing down on the wrong keys causing a sharp unexpected sound. His breath was warm on her neck and ear and she was wracked with a shiver she couldn't control. Somehow, even though she knew better, she couldn't reconcile this warm-blooded male with Malfoy.

"What are you doing up playing the piano in the middle of the night?" She lifted her nose haughtily, trying to regain some of her usual dignity despite the bizarre circumstances. "Drinking."

"I always play down here, I often drink down here." He brushed a stray curl off her neck, barely grazing her skin. When had he gotten so close? Alarm bells were going off in her head like crazy, her mind screaming for her to back away. What was he playing at? But her pride wouldn't let her step back, gain some space. He wouldn't intimidate her! With his strange standing close and touching and breathing attack plan…

"I heard the music."

"Liar." He breathed. Right before he kissed her.

Hermione hadn't known what she had expected, or if she had expected anything at all. But his lips were warm and soft and barely ghosted over hers before he drew back.

"Why did you come down here tonight?"

"I told you, I heard the music." She replied. She hated the breathless quality of her voice, the way she leaned into his space. She hated that she didn't wretch herself away from him, slap him silly, and demand to know what he thought he was doing. And she hated herself because when he kissed her again, with a little more force, she kissed him back.

He made her whole body tingle just with one kiss. And then another, and then another. When he slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her closer she offered up no resistance, sinking into his embrace, shifting her body to accommodate his. He tasted like peppermint and some sweetish sour alcoholic drink that she didn't recognize. Her eyes fluttered closed and she concentrated on how well he fit up against her. The way his shoulders felt under her hands. Surprisingly well muscled under midnight black robes of rich soft material.

She shifted her body to get closer, to feel more of him against her. She had never been kissed like this before. Never had anyone make her feel like she was floating and falling all at the same time. When he twisted to gather her in her arms she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck like some kind of lovesick fool. Her mind was screaming at her to push him away, but her body was twining itself around him. It had been forever since anyone had kissed her.

He lifted her up and the jarring sound of her feet hitting the keys of the piano jolted her out of her temporary insanity, sort of. "Wait! What is going on…is there some sort of enchantment of this piano?" She trailed off brokenly, looking up at him as he pushed in between her legs to stand close to her.

"What are you talking about Granger?" He kissed her cheek, her neck, the curve of her shoulder. "We both know what is going on, why you're here."

His hands ghosted under her baggy Hogwarts jumper and touched bare skin, spreading the warmth of his fingers over her body, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. He laid hot wet kisses on her neck, his hand working to remove the clip that held her hair up off her neck. It tumbled around them creating an umbrella of privacy for just the two of them. "No, I don't know…I was just following the music…"

He kissed her again, silencing her attempt to explain, to understand. He slid his hands through her hair, tangling it in his fingers, pulling her closer. "You're here because you want me."

She tried to protest, to tell him different, but he was all over her. Kissing and touching. Pulling her sweater up over her head, quickly following with her lacy strip of a bra. Stepping back to shed himself of his robe. Pushing her skirt up over her hips, pushing between her thighs.

The sex was sweaty and hot and slick. She clung to him and begged desperately for him to not stop. The slap of flesh and the cries of pleasure were punctuated by the clanging keys of the piano as they banged up against them. He gripped her hips and pulled her closer so he could plunge more deeply inside her and that was all she wrote. She came with a great cry…

Hermione wretched herself upright from her sweaty tangle of sheets. She was panting in the dark. Where was she? Her mind fumbled for a moment for the truth, trying to gauge the elapsed time, to remember what had happened. She fumbled for the light on her bedside, bathing the small room in brightness. Her room, her Head Girl room.

It had been a dream.

The door across the room opened without a sound and a sleepy Draco Malfoy peeked in on her. His hair was tousled and he was shirtless. "You OK?"

She pulled her sheets up around her modestly and answered that she was fine in a voice that hardly trembled at all. Later in her imagination he would have come in, shut the door. But the real story was much different.

"Well, quit all that bloody moaning, some of us have classes in the morning."

**Three things you want your fic to include:**  
1) Sex (con or non-con, implied or graphic, any mention of a sexual encounter between any two characters, don't need to be D or Hr)  
2) An umbrella  
3) Ravel's 'Pavane pour une infante defunte'. Possibly the most moving pieces of classical music ever written.

 **Three things you do not want your fic to include:** 1) Necrophilia  
2) OOC fluff (especially on Draco's part)  
3) Harry/Ginny


End file.
